


Something to fight for...

by Maegfen



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Spoilers for trailer of 3x09
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 09:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6418558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maegfen/pseuds/Maegfen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are only so many times a person can be broken and Abby feels the cracks in her armor begin to widen, her resolve begin to shatter as she contemplates a life without him by her side.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something to fight for...

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a lovely anon who wanted a one shot about the forehead touching (and probable kiss) scene in 3x09. This is what I came up with; I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> This is probably the last fic I'll write before Kabby becomes canon and it's such a surreal/ amazing feeling! I can't believe we made it guys!

~~~~There’s a slight chill in the air as Abby makes her way out of Medical and heads off in the direction of the old disused corridor. Nathan hadn’t been too specific about how long Marcus had been granted to speak to her, so she’s determined to make the most of what little time they may have.  
  
Abby passes a couple of Pike’s guards as she makes her way through the familiar hallways, but she refuses to give them the pleasure of seeing her becoming upset at the current circumstances. Thankfully neither of the men say anything and Abby steps past them without a backwards glance.  
  
Her heart pounds rapidly in her chest, anxiousness about the situation growing with each step closer to him that she takes. There’s a silent countdown in her head, each heartbeat ticking through the seconds until Sinclair and Lincoln and _Marcus_ are executed for their supposed crimes.  
  
Abby feels tears start to well in her eyes as she tries to process everything once more; the anger, the confusion, the absolute _panic_ she feels at how this whole situation has played out.  
  
She barely survived losing Jake, but losing Marcus too? So soon after she faced the reality of her feelings for him, unspoken as they are? There are only so many times a person can be broken and Abby feels the cracks in her armor begin to widen, her resolve begin to shatter as she contemplates a life without him by her side.  
  
She takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself; it won’t do Marcus any good to see her so torn up about what’s likely to happen to him.

He’s leaning against the wall when she finally rounds the corner, one ankle swung over the other, arms folded across his chest. The causal air he gives off is a lie Abby realizes. The fingers tapping rapidly against his jacket betray his obvious nerves. Abby’s thrown for a second, her step stuttering for a brief moment; she’s so unused to seeing Marcus this way. She’s seen him angry, exhausted, upset, but she’s never seen him nervous.  
  
“Hey,” she mutters as she stops in front of him. Marcus stands up straight and takes a step forward. His arms hang loosely by his side, and if Abby didn’t know better she’d say he looks defeated.  
  
“Hi.”  
  
She peers at him, tries to get him to _see_ her, to understand that she’s _there_.  
  
“How long do we have?”

Marcus shrugs and glances back in the direction that she came from, as if he’s expecting the guards to reappear at any moment.  
  
“Not long,” he finally answers as he looks down at her. His face softens. “Abby, I’m sorry…”

Abby frowns and reaches out to touch his arm.  
  
“Why are you apologizing Marcus? You did nothing wrong. Pike…”  
  
“I should have spoken to you about my plans. I should have…” He pauses and looks at her again, tilting his head slightly as if trying to read her mind. “I should have protected you from all this.”  
  
He gestures around him into the empty space, but Abby understands. With Marcus gone she’ll be a target once more, just another Grounder supporter who might openly defy Pike, a potential enemy that should be silenced. Abby shakes her heads, dismisses his fears about her safety.  
  
Abby doesn’t know what to say, and even if she did, it all seems futile. What on Earth could make this better? What words could she whisper to Marcus now that would save him from the fate he’s seemingly been destined for?  
  
Seconds trickle slowly by, like the grains of sand through a timer.

“I won’t let this happen to you.”

She watches Marcus suck in a quiet breath at her words, then exhale slowly, a shuddering rush of air which hits the skin of her cheeks, a breath that causes the hairs to stand up on the back of her neck and makes a chill run down her spine.

Abby steps closer between one breath and the next, determined to just be _near_ him. She knows that this could be the last time she sees him, could be the last opportunity to speak the words she’s been avoiding for what seems like an eternity, but in reality have been creeping up on her since that day he rescued her back on the Ark.

God, it seems like so long ago, when things were simple, easier. Her heart aches for those almost forgotten days of rations, star filled windows and the constant thrumming of the engines beneath her feet. Now her ears are filled with the distant shouting of guards and Marcus’ quiet breaths and the windows look out onto the blood-soaked fields of war.

Abby raises her hands to Marcus’ cheeks, the warmth of his skin apparent despite the beard that now covers his face. It had taken a while to get used to this look of his, such a difference from the clean shaven, straight laced, rule abiding Councillor that she’d clashed with so many times on the Ark.

“Abby…”

“I won’t!” she repeats firmly, letting him know she means it, means it with _everything_ that she has. “I _won’t_!”

Marcus merely nods in reply, the coarse hair of his beard tickling her palms as his head moves.

There are no more words to be said Abby decides and pulls him down slightly so that his forehead rests on hers. She closes her eyes, senses Marcus do the same, and they stand still like that, frozen statues of peace in the middle of a raging hurricane of _chaos_ that lurks just around the corner.  
  
She tries to savor the moment, tries to memorize the warmth of his skin under her fingertips, tries to memorize the touch of his fingers as they dance over hers, tries to memorize the way his breath hitches as she runs her thumb over his cheek.

Abby’s eyes flutter open after what seems like an age, and she notices that Marcus is staring at her as if he wants to speak but is reluctant to break the silence that has fallen upon them.

She kisses him instead.

It is exactly and nothing like what she expected. The kiss is all passion and fear and love and Abby clutches Marcus a little closer as he tries to move away, protests as his fingers ghost patterns down her arm, whimpers as she chases his lips for another taste as he smirks at her. Despite what they both know is going to happen, she’s thankful he still has the heart to treat this moment as if it is _everything_.

Marcus’ kisses change suddenly, and Abby realizes he’s saying goodbye, saying ‘thank you’ and ‘I love you’ and ‘survive, for me, _please_ …’ in the moments between one stolen breath and another. She replies in kind, implores him with her lips and hands and _heart_ to be brave and unafraid and to fight.  
  
God she just wants him to fight one last time before the end.

They finally break apart, when there are no more goodbyes and unspoken words to be shared. Marcus’ fingers sweep down her arms once more before they reach her hands. Abby feels him interlink their fingers, but doesn’t tear her gaze from his face.  
  
He gives her hands a quick, reassuring squeeze before her lets go and takes a small step back. Abby follows his movements, stepping forward without a second thought. She waits a second before she reaches out and pulls him into a tight hug. The action seems to throw Marcus for a loop, despite the intimacy of the kisses they’ve just shared, but it is mere moments before his arms reach around her back, his hands splaying out as if to keep her confined in the protection of his embrace.  
  
Marcus pulls her closer and Abby takes comfort in the strong beat of his heart under her ear. As long as that heart is beating Marcus will fight. He will fight and he will _live_.

“May we meet again,” she mutters into his neck, each syllable a whispered tattoo upon his skin as painful as the brand that marks his forearm.

“May we meet again,” Marcus replies softly, and Abby struggles to hold back tears as he presses his lips to the crown of her head and holds her tight.

They don’t let go until the guards come to take Marcus away. Abby watches as he’s escorted back towards the cells and decides, in that precise moment, that she will do _everything_  in her power to save Marcus, to save Sinclair, to save Lincoln, to save the whole damn camp if she has to.

She closes her eyes, remembers the feel of Marcus’ lips on hers, draws strength from the memory of his heartbeat in her ear and walks away.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think; kudos and comments make my day :)


End file.
